


Drained

by yeen_meteor



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeen_meteor/pseuds/yeen_meteor
Summary: Sae and Makoto Niijima are a pair of young vampire sisters, trying their best to fit in with the world and lead normal, harmless lives.Makoto stumbles into an entirely different supernatural world from her own, getting tangled into the Phantom Thieves' adventures in the cognitive world, and eventually becoming one of them.Sae's career as a prosecutor at the SIU seems to keep finding ways to pile more and more stress onto her back, and the men in charge seem to keep finding more ways to disrespect her and piss her off.As the year goes on, Makoto starts to notice Sae's willpower wearing thin and her frustrations building. Sae's getting closer and closer to snapping at her superiors by the day, and a Change of Heart might be the only thing Makoto can do to stop her sister from giving into her cravings and becoming a killer.
Relationships: Niijima Makoto/Okumura Haru
Comments: 16
Kudos: 45





	1. Makoto's Ordinary Life

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Phantom Cryptids](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534767) by [ButterflyDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ButterflyDragon/pseuds/ButterflyDragon). 



> f!akira because why the hell not i like her that way

**_Takemi:_ ** _ Guinea pig, I need a favor. It won’t take much of your time, and you should be fine to go about your day afterwards. As long as you’re not running any heavy machinery. _

-

The first thing Akira noticed as she rounded the corner to Tae’s clinic was a prominently-placed sign promoting a blood donation drive, and as she opened the door to the clinic proper, she found plenty more posters to match inside. There was also a stack of information pamphlets describing the process placed prominently near the door, and a couple boxes of donuts stacked on Tae’s reception desk. 

“Let me take a wild guess at what you called me in for.” Akira greeted Tae with a smile that was half-smirk, and she responded by shaking her head and chuckling. 

“Well, if I was subtle, that wouldn’t be very good for getting people in the door, would it.” Tae shrugged. “But, yeah, that’s all it is. Demand’s really high right now, and I figured I knew where I could get my hands on at least one free pint. Plus, I don’t need to bother with a screening, since I already have so much data on you.”

“Hm.” Akira didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she just returned the shrug. “Did something happen to make this urgent?”

Takemi playfully smirked. “Well, the vampires’ll get bitey if I run out, of course. Don’t want one coming grocery shopping when I’m the only bloodbag in the building, do I?”

Akira gave her a bit of a look, but chuckled despite herself. “Guess not.”

Tae got to her feet, and motioned for Akira to follow her into the examination room. “But really, it’s just been a slow month for donations lately. That, on top of the train accidents…”

-

The procedure was quick, mostly painless, and totally ordinary, which wasn’t something Akira could often say about visits to Tae’s clinic. She was out in the waiting room in no time at all, donut in hand, picking out a few pharmaceuticals to stock up on before she left.

“All yours, I guess.” Tae still seemed just a bit suspicious as she handed over the little bag of medicine. “What did you say you needed all these pills for, again?”

“They work wonders on monster wounds in the other world.” Akira effortlessly matched Tae’s playful smirk from before. 

Tae’s only response was an unamused glare through half-lidded eyes. “Come on, that wasn’t even good, at least the vampire one made sense.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled a bit to herself. “Well, good luck with that. See you around, and thanks for your help.”

“Not a problem, see you soon!” With a wave, Akira was out the door. She had a busy day ahead of her, and hopefully she wouldn’t be too lightheaded for it.

* * *

This was shaping up to be a less than ideal week for Makoto.

First, more and more people were coming to her for help after getting themselves tangled in organized crime and extorted. It seemed like debt to the city’s drug-running ring was becoming endemic among Shujin’s student body, and Makoto was at a loss for what she could do to even try to help. And people were already starting to grow frustrated with her, as if it was her fault she couldn’t do anything.

Second, the Phantom Thieves had just issued their second calling card. It was to someone outside the school this time, thankfully, but Principal Kobayakawa had already started complaining to her about how the students responsible for the Kamoshida incident hadn’t been found yet, and she had a sinking feeling the Phantom Thieves were very soon going to be her problem.

Third, she hadn’t had a drop of blood to drink in three days, and the thirst was getting to her head.

Sae had called the back-alley doctor this morning to see if there was any in stock yet, and the answer was still no. And, so, the two vampire sisters had no choice but to set out on their very stressful days on much shorter-than-usual fuses. 

Makoto had a burning, dry itch in her throat that wouldn’t go away. She felt sluggish and exhausted, and little things kept distracting her focus when she tried to work. Her senses felt at once duller and noisier than usual; everything was less distinct and less clear, but there was so  _ much _ of it, so many mixing scents and loud heartbeats and little sounds of tapping and writing and breathing that were coming from everywhere at once, and she just wanted to run and hide somewhere quiet. She swore she could see an artery pulsing in her teacher’s neck, and her eyes kept wandering there despite her best efforts to focus on the lesson. 

She caught herself thinking everyone in the room was being selfish with their blood, not donating any of it when they all had so much. She shook her head and sighed. Intrusive thoughts were always disheartening.

Eventually, finally, the clock (which had been ticking louder than it had any right to, the entire time) finally signaled it was time for lunch. Not that she had the luxury of being a normal person with normal hunger and having some normal food during the break, but at least it  _ was _ a break, and she could run off to the Student Council room for a little while and try to collect herself.

She felt a bit unsteady when she stood, and every part of her body felt a little bit sore when she moved it. She kept her posture as proper as she could as she walked, but her balance didn’t feel quite right. She was keenly aware of the sound of every single heartbeat of every single student that passed her in the halls, and it wasn’t even tempting, it was just a torrent of noise adding to the clouded, weighed-down feeling in her head that she couldn’t shake.

The sun was shining in through the windows, and when she walked past one, a wave of dizziness left her stumbling, and it felt like her neck and cheek were suddenly covered in an itching, burning rash. She had to lean up against a wall for a moment for balance while the dizzy spell passed, holding a hand up to her face and trying to feel for any visible marks. Thankfully, her skin still felt smooth, so she probably didn’t have an actual burn wound there, but with how it stung she really couldn’t be sure. Normally she wouldn’t have to worry about sunlight wounds, since she healed faster than it could hurt her, but that wasn’t a sure thing on days like today. A long enough exposure to the sun could kill a starved vampire, and it’d soon be very dangerous for her to leave the apartment if she didn’t get anything to drink in the next couple days.

As she turned the corner to head up the stairwell, she heard some shouting and cheering over the chatter of a crowd. Then she heard a few voices chanting ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’. 

She sighed, shook her head to clear it as best she could, straightened out her uniform, cleared her dry throat, and took on her most authoritative posture, then climbed the stairs and started pushing through the gathered crowd.

She managed to get through to a gap in the crowd in the middle of the hall, where a pair of first-year girls were locked in what looked at first like a bit of a catfight, with one grappling the other and pulling her hair. Then, the one having her hair pulled jammed her knee into the other’s stomach, got her to let go and stumble back, then made a fist and properly slugged her in the nose while she was still reeling.

“That enough to get you to piss off!?” The girl with the admittedly impressive punch shouted at her opponent, who was leaned up against the wall, cupping a hand under her nose.

Makoto took her chance to step out between the two and shout, “Okay, that’s enough! Break it up!” There were some derisive mumbles from the crowd, something to the effect of ‘Robot’s here, show’s over’, but she tried not to pay them any mind.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re already done anyway, I got my point across just fine.” Punchy girl smiled and proudly held up a fist, then turned to walk away, but not before adding an “And she started it, Miss President.”

Makoto sighed, and started to say something, but she was stopped short. She’d taken in a breath to keep talking, and she’d caught the scent of something in the air behind her.

“She... She broke my nose…! I… Oh crab… Uhh… Diijiba-san?”

Makoto knew turning around would be a bad idea, but she turned to face the loser of the fight anyway, and was greeted with the sight of blood pouring out of her nose, running all over her chin, into her hand, and wastefully onto the floor.

“Uh…” Makoto might’ve spaced out a bit staring at the floor blood. She forced herself to look down at her own shoes instead, because eye contact wasn’t an option right now either. “R-right… Uh… Just… Go on ahead and get to the bathroom to clean up, then head to the nurse, I’ll, uh… Grab some paper towels, and make sure no one slips on this…”

She really hoped she at least passed for squeamish.

In any case, the girl didn’t call her out on anything, and instead just thanked her quickly and ran off, leaving a sparse trail of drops of blood behind her. 

Makoto straightened out, pointedly  _ didn’t _ sigh because that would require taking a breath, and went to grab some paper towel from a nearby room. With that in hand, she got down on her hands and knees, and cringed looking down at the little puddle in front of her.

_ ‘There’s no blood for you at the clinic, Makoto,’  _ she grumbled angrily in her own head, imagining a mocking imitation of Dr. Takemi’s voice. ‘ _ There’s none at all, you’re gonna have to go hungry for the week!’ _

With no small amount of bitterness, the starving vampire started wiping up the carelessly wasted blood, as people with beating hearts and pulsing veins walked by all around her.  _ ‘There’s no blood for you, Makoto. It’s really hard to come by, you know.’ _

And just to make things even more humiliating, a tiny voice in the back of her head was suggesting she just lick some of it up off the floor, to soothe that burning, aching itch in her throat. It was easy to ignore, she had her dignity as Student Council President to worry about, after all - but it was still  _ there _ , and that was degrading enough. Some thought of vampires as superhuman, but Makoto was starting to feel that the opposite was true.

And in no time at all, the stain was cleaned up, and Makoto had to watch herself throw a tissue full of life-giving sustenance in the garbage.

She stormed off to the Student Council room with no small amount of visible frustration on her face, closed the door firmly behind her, took a long, deep, steadying breath and let it out as a sigh. It was the first breath she’d taken in a couple minutes. Despite how long she’d waited, the smell of blood still seemed to hang heavy in the air, like it was stuck to her.  _ Another discomfort to add to the pile _ .

She flopped into a chair with no regard for her posture, let as much tension out of her body as she could, and sighed. She supposed she’d just have to deal with it. She really didn’t feel like not breathing for the rest of the day. The slow, steady rhythm of it helped keep her feeling stable and grounded, and she didn’t like to do things that made her feel too inhuman if she could avoid it. Despite everything, Makoto still liked to think of herself as human. A human with a disability of sorts, or something, but still a human. Things like going hours without breathing, things that made her feel less ‘sick’ and more ‘undead’, just left her with a deeply uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that was hard to shake.

After a few more deep breaths to calm herself down, she took a moment to adjust her posture and sit up straight. She moved to straighten out the hem of her skirt, but stopped short.

There was a little spot of blood on her thumb from when she’d cleaned up the spill.

She froze up, shut her eyes, grit her teeth, and heaved a deep,  _ deep  _ sigh, a sigh which drew in all of that heavy scent and made her sore throat throb and ache.  _ This day really is deadset on kicking me while I’m down, isn’t it. _

She hesitated for a very, very long moment. It would be such a small thing, to just lick it off and be done with it. There was nobody around. It wouldn’t hurt anyone. There was hardly a reason not to, aside from the indecency of it. But it  _ was  _ indecent, and improper, and rude, and out of line, and Makoto wasn’t that. Makoto couldn’t be that. She still had her dignity to uphold. She had people she couldn’t disappoint. 

Still gritting her teeth, she stood up stiffly, grabbed another piece of paper towel, and bitterly wiped the last droplet off. She was a model of good behavior, and would remain so. Perfect attendance, perfect grades, and a perfect record of only drinking ethically-sourced, consensually-donated blood. This one stray drop wouldn’t be the thing to make her slip.

She could handle this.

But the day was only half over, and it felt like someone had shoved a thornbush down her throat and lit it on fire.

She could handle this, but it would be awful the entire time.

* * *

The sun had just barely disappeared beyond the horizon when the door to Tae’s clinic swung open and Makoto stepped inside, looking gaunt, exhausted and twitchy, and carrying an empty backpack.

“Good evening, Niijima-san, here to pick up your prescription?” Tae greeted with a slight smile, which soured a bit when she saw the way Makoto’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, tensely and almost fearfully. “Jeez, you look terrible. Sorry I couldn’t get this in any sooner, I had to call a few favors from acquaintances this time…”

Makoto self-consciously tried to straighten out and relax her face. “W-well… I guess it’d be bad if I didn’t look terrible at this point, wouldn’t it.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Glad you held out.” Takemi got up and made her way to the fridge in the back, and beckoned Makoto to follow.

Inside were ten blood bags, each lovingly labeled with a prescription sticker bearing one of the sisters’ names, along with the words “Take one pack by mouth daily” and Takemi’s signature. Clearly she was having a bit of fun with this.

“You brought icepacks in your bag, right?” Takemi asked, and Makoto nodded as she started to pack away the strange medication. 

“I’m not going to let it go bad. I’m not wasting any of this.” Makoto said firmly and bitterly. Tae raised an eyebrow. She seemed upset about something specific, but Tae didn’t ask.

Makoto so badly wanted to excuse herself to the bathroom or something and rip one of the packs open right here and right now. She was desperate to ease all these pains and get her head feeling stable again. But she held firm, closed up her backpack, and went on her way. There was a right and dignified way to go about this, and she wasn’t a monster, and she wasn’t impulsive, and she wasn’t weak, and she could  _ wait,  _ so she did her best to tune out all the aches and jitters and hurried to the Yongen-Jaya station to get home as quickly as possible.

* * *

Makoto grabbed the doorknob, turned it, opened the door to her apartment at something resembling a normal speed, and closed it gently. She didn’t swing it open or slam it shut with the volatile strength she felt just barely beneath the surface.

She stepped into the kitchen. She didn’t stomp. She walked very fast, but she didn’t run. She kept her posture. 

Every single move and every single action was taking an immense amount of effort and focus. Patience. Calm and patience. Calm and patience. She repeated the mantra over the fog in her head, as loudly as she could. Her eyes, normally a faded maroon, were glowing red. Her fangs were poking at her bottom gums. She felt like she might tear the door of the kitchen cupboard off if she wasn’t extremely careful. Her entire body was tense, coiled like a spring, desperate and overwhelmed with hunting instinct. She knew she would finally be sated soon, she was shaking from the excitement of it, her thirst would finally be  _ sated, _ and her body was reacting to the overwhelming anticipation with no understanding of the context, with no understanding that she wasn’t actually seconds from pouncing on someone and killing them.

Controlled, and patient, and deliberate, she took a tall glass out of the kitchen cupboard with a shaky hand, careful to grip it as gently as possible. She grabbed a pair of scissors from the cutlery drawer, made her way to the table, and sat down, proper and poised, shivering and feeling her mouth uncontrollably water. She was so, so,  _ so close  _ to finally having her patience pay off,  _ so _ close to experiencing that intoxicating taste again.

She didn’t tear open her bag, she unfastened it carefully. She didn’t grip the cold blood pack so hard it burst open, nor did she accidentally puncture it with her claws, she lifted it carefully onto the table and snipped the corner open very deliberately and properly with the scissors. She let herself take a deep breath; here and now, she didn’t have to be bothered by how good and tempting that scent was, because it was all hers.  _ It was all hers. _

One last moment of patience and it would all finally pay off. Despite everything calling for her to just chug it all from the pack, she poured her drink into her glass like a good, civilized, normal human who wasn’t going absolutely insane at the anticipation of having her overwhelming monstrous craving finally satisfied.

She grabbed hold of the cold, tall glass of blood in front of her, poured cleanly without having spilled a drop.

And she finally, at long last, put it to her lips and drank.

The taste was  _ indescribable _ in its intensity, and in the way it overwhelmed every other sense and flooded her system with a wave of dopamine that hit like an electric shock, It was rich, deep, savoury umami, but it was so much  _ more _ than that, it was every taste bud she had sending an intense positive signal at the same time, it was all the aches and pain in her body fading and being replaced with a deep, deep feeling of soothed bliss and strength, it was the fire in her throat being extinguished in an instant like it had never been there at all, it was a bliss that left her so cleansed of bad feelings that she didn’t even have the capacity to comprehend them in this moment. There was nothing in her head but this taste, and this bliss, there was no room for anything else as it overwhelmed her, and she drank, and drank and drank, and…

And the flow stopped, and it was gone, and her wide angry eyes fixated on the traitorous glass and it just wasn’t  _ enough _ , the aftertaste was fresh on her tongue but the feeling was fading and the adrenaline and the rush and the wild hunter’s instinct was still  _ there _ and still  _ overwhelming _ but it didn’t feel  _ good anymore _ it just felt  _ hollow _ without the bliss of that taste and the rush of strength and life filling her dead veins and she needed  _ more -  _

She set the glass down, shivering like mad, put both hands on the sides of her head, shut her eyes tight and took a long,  _ deep _ breath.

She steered her frenzied mind towards focusing on worldly sensations. Not how her body felt, not how the taste felt, not how her nerves felt. How the weight of her headband felt on her head. How the wood of the table felt. How the chair felt. The sensation of the smooth, cold glass. She focused, she focused with everything she had, and the aftertaste faded, little by little, and her mind cleared up, little by little, and as she held onto the chair like a lifeline to ground herself, she came back down to earth one breath at a time.

And when she opened her eyes again, when she was confident she was under control again, she found herself feeling clear, sharp, pain-free, rested and healthy.

She let some of the tension in her muscles relax, and everything felt wonderful. 

She stayed where she was, still as a statue for a few minutes, letting the rush pass, letting the fire in her eyes fade, and slowly reaching a state of real calm.

She felt normal, for the first time in a few days. She felt better than normal. She stood up, and carried her backpack to the fridge, and the motion was automatic and relaxed and she didn’t need to think about it at all. She stowed the rest of the blood bags away in the fridge, and sure, she wanted to take more, but it was more of a human-level desire to take one more donut from the box and not an all-encompassing desperate need to rip them all open and feast. It was easy to tune out, now, when she felt painless, clear-headed and powerful like this.

She rinsed out her glass, went back to the kitchen table, turned the TV onto the news and brought out some homework. She had some catching up to do after how rough school had been this morning.

A few minutes later, the apartment door swung open again and Sae stormed in without a word. The red glow was vibrant in her eyes, her face was tensed with an almost feral-looking pattern of wrinkles, and her mouth was hanging open and exposing her fangs. 

Makoto just lowered her eyes back down to her homework and frowned a bit, knowing that she herself hadn’t looked much better when she came home. It was a lot more embarrassing after seeing it from an outside perspective like this.

The fridge door swung open with violent force, startling Makoto out of any focus she may have had. Sae unceremoniously grabbed a blood bag, and without a moment’s patience or hesitation, bit into it, sinking her fangs deep into it and gorging herself. Some of it dribbled down her chin and stained the neck of her black undershirt. When the pack was completely drained, Sae just let it fall to the ground, and leaned on the fridge door for support while she just stared down at nothing, her eyes still wide and angry and crimson, and her fangs still bared. She looked like a runner catching her breath, except she wasn’t breathing. Just trying to get her focus and sense of self back, just like Makoto had needed to a few moments ago.

It was a minute before she drew in a deep breath and let out a winded-sounding “Hello, Makoto.” She was still slouched over, holding the open fridge door.

Makoto did her best not to stare. “Hey, sis.”

Sae wiped the blood off her chin with the back of her hand and licked it up, then finally stood up straight and closed the door. “Were there any problems at school today?”

“None at all.”

“Good.” Sae picked up the empty plastic bag off the floor, and threw it in the trash. “That doctor’s given us an amazing second chance. I’m glad you’re not letting it go to waste.”

“Of course.” Makoto’s eyes couldn’t help but wander to the stain on the collar of Sae’s shirt as the older sister took her seat at the kitchen table. “I’m more worried about you, Sis. You look worn out.”

“Do I?” Sae sighed as she took out her work laptop and set it on the table in front of her. “Well, you know how my workplace is. A woman can’t afford to show weakness, even on a day like this… No matter how much the thirst is messing with your head, you still need to be able to work twice as hard as the men if you want half the respect.”

Makoto nodded.

“You won’t be able to go very far if you start putting in a half-effort every time Dr. Takemi can’t supply us,” Sae continued. “So make sure you’re able to handle it.”

“I will, sis.” Makoto was careful to sound genuine.

The two settled in and focused on their work for the next while, as the news went on about the suspicious calling card sent to Ichiryusai Madarame. It was pleasantly quiet for a couple of hours, as both sisters enjoyed being able to focus and work with a clear head again. A nice, productive evening, at long last.

Around 11pm, Makoto had finished up with her assigned tasks and done some review, and she packed away her books and got up. Before she left the kitchen, she stopped and turned back to Sae. “...You’re not going to pull another all-nighter, are you?”

Sae put a hand on her forehead. “I don’t need to sleep, Makoto.”

Makoto was a bit more timid when she continued. “Well, I find it’s… Still healthy to rest and meditate for a few hours, to sort of... reset yourself for the next day, you know? It helps with keeping a regular schedule, and…”

Sae shot her a bit of a glare, and spoke coldly and firmly. “I have a lot of work to do tonight. If you want to rest, go ahead.”

Makoto muttered an apology and hurried off to her bedroom.

Sae stayed right where she was.


	2. The Spider in the Fly's Web?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto struggles through a downward spiral.

6/13

Makoto had finished off the last of the most recent batch of blood bags the night before, and she got to school this morning feeling refreshed, energetic, and ready to take on the world. She had an ace up her sleeve, an audio recording of Ryuji and Ann confessing, and with her thirst sated, she knew she had the presence of mind to play her cards right. If everything went to plan, one way or another, one criminal organization would fall. She could topple the Thieves, or she could aim them at the local Mafia. Whichever outcome came to pass, one problem would be solved, and she’d be one step closer to proving herself and securing her future.

Bright and early in the morning, she politely requested Ms. Kawakami send Kurusu to the Student Council room at the end of the day, making up some excuse about the delinquent student being suspected of a more mundane type of theft. All the pieces were in place, and she finally had some confidence that this whole mess was within her power to solve.

The day passed quickly. Makoto was focused and diligent as ever through her classes, and she wondered if anyone noticed the confident, relaxed smile on her face after weeks of stress and tension.

The final period came to an end, and Makoto stood alone in the student council room, patiently waiting for everything to come together.

The door opened. Akira Kurusu entered without a word, with her hands in her skirt’s pockets, her bag slung over her shoulder, and a dry, lazy sort of suspicion in her eyes.

But what caught Makoto’s attention right away about Akira was a sticker placed proudly on her cheek with a heart on it, that read ‘Save A Life, Give Blood’.

Right away, Makoto’s eyes went a bit wide, and her cheeks flushed just the tiniest bit. There was no way… That’d be too crazy a coincidence, right…? Sure, Kurusu was a donor, but that didn’t mean…

Makoto cleared her throat and tried to put her stern face back on. “You’re… Earlier than expected. Have a seat.” She gestured towards a chair, and took the one on the other side of the table for herself. 

There was a moment where the two girls just stared at each other, seated on opposite sides of the table. It looked like Akira was already trying to get a read on her, figure out what her game was, what she wanted out of this encounter. But she wouldn’t have much luck figuring Makoto’s scheme out, because the vampire was distracted with something else entirely.

Makoto took a deep breath in through her nose, a sniff she disguised as a sigh. She couldn’t help it, that sticker had her curious. She just had to confirm that smell wasn’t familiar, and then she’d be over it and could carry on with the interrogation.

She smelled… Like coffee, first of all. Coffee, cat hair, and faint traces of spice. There was a wound somewhere on her body, but not a fresh one, and her blood was…

A-. Low sugar, but full of caffeine. Traces of… Something bitter she couldn’t quite place, maybe a medication.

It was… It was exactly the smell of last night’s dinner. It matched too perfectly, it was so familiar, she could almost feel the aftertaste on her tongue smelling that exact scent again.

_ Oh my gosh… T-there’s no way… I actually… Drank the delinquent transfer student’s blood…! _

Her eyes wandered down from Akira’s donor sticker, down to her neck, then very intently away from her neck and down to the table, and she blushed. She realized that was Akira’s blood filling her cheeks and making them feel hot and turn red, and her blush only got worse. 

She didn’t know why she felt so embarrassed, but it was just so… Invasive, and inappropriate, and  _ weird _ , and… And she felt guilty, like she’d done something really wrong to her! She’d never met any of the donors who kept her fed, as far as she knew, and there was something so uncanny about looking into a person’s eyes and knowing  _ that’s _ what was on the dinner table the night before… This was just… Gross, on so many levels...

Akira broke the silence and cleared her throat, confused that Makoto had done nothing but stare at her uneasily and blush for a whole minute. “So…” She started, snapping Makoto right out of her flustered daze.

“Ahem. Um. Right. Yes. Let’s… Cut right to the chase, then, Kurusu-san.” It took a bit of stammering for Makoto to find her confident, authoritative voice again. Even then, it wasn’t quite intact, and she wasn’t having an easy time looking Akira in the eye after the revelation.

“Go on.” Akira just looked annoyed. Still a bit confused, but mostly annoyed.

“Mr. Kamoshida, and Madarame…” Makoto started, looking down at her own hands and focusing on her objective. She wanted to watch Akira’s eyes and see what information she could gain from her expression, but she really couldn’t. “Won’t you tell me the truth about what happened to them?”

Akira was silent, so Makoto continued. “Thought not. Letting a secret like that slip is scarier than anything I can threaten you with, of course.” She didn’t catch Akira raising an eyebrow at that. Her eyes were fixated on her phone, now, and the devastating evidence it contained.

“Have a listen.”

She decided as she pressed play that, actually, the look on Akira’s face here would be well worth the discomfort.

_ “If someone else could help ‘em, we wouldn’t be doin’ stuff as the Phantom Thieves to start with!” _

_ “So you think it’s true…? We’ll be okay if we keep doing this, right…?” _

The unmistakable voices of Ryuji and Ann, laying everything out on the table.

Akira went pale as a sheet. For one long moment, there was more of her blood in Makoto’s cheeks than in her own. She didn’t express much, but Makoto heard her heart leap into her chest and start racing.

Busted.

* * *

The most convenient thing about Makoto’s physiology, she thought, was that she didn’t have to worry much about falling into a trap. There wasn’t much anyone could do to seriously, permanently hurt her, and she easily had the edge in any fights against humans if she really tried to channel her latent strength. Of course, this was all theoretical, and she’d never actually  _ tried _ using supernatural strength for much more than lifting a heavy box or two. It was draining and exhausting to do so, it made her thirstier, and it was therefore very wasteful. But, given that she was proficient in aikido on top of all her theoretical power, she was confident that if it ever came to a fight, she’d handle herself just fine.

So, she was completely at ease as Akira led her to Shibuya for a supposed Phantom Thieves meeting.

She was comfortable enough that she didn’t mind starting some small talk on the train, if it meant getting some burning questions off her chest.

“So, Kurusu-san… Why have you been wearing that sticker on your cheek all day?” 

Akira sighed deeply, looked over at Makoto, and rubbed her forehead. Her glare seemed to be asking,  _ are you really going to just talk to me like we don’t have beef with eachother right now? _

Makoto pressed a little harder, but she couldn’t help but let the awkwardness of the situation affect her voice a bit. “It’s a, uh. Noble thing to do, donating blood. It’s good to see people having an interest in helping others in more mundane ways like that.”

Akira rolled her eyes, and was silent for a moment longer. Then Makoto heard a faint meow coming from somewhere, and Akira’s expression shifted a bit. “Well…” She started, not quite meeting Makoto’s eyes. “I actually went in a week or so ago, myself, but my doctor texted me again this morning, told me to try to get the word out. She said it was urgent, and they needed as much as they could possibly get their hands on.” She shrugged. “So, y’know. The sticker’s just me marketing for her. You interested? Her clinic’s in Yongen.”

Well, that confirmed it beyond a shadow of a doubt. Makoto felt like she was going to be sick. And a part of her thought she really wouldn’t mind being sick, right now, because it was the closest she could get to un-drinking Akira’s blood.

It also didn't escape her notice that her own empty fridge was probably the source of the urgency Akira was talking about. It was honestly a little unnerving, the amount of effort Dr. Takemi had to go to, and the amount of donors it took every week to keep her and Sae ethically fed. This was basically a stranger, out in the world, trying to raise food donations for her specifically. And she might not be the only one.

“I…” Makoto stammered a bit as she scrambled to come up with a lie in response to Akira's invitation. “I, uh… Tried, and failed the screening, I have a condition...”

“Hm.” Akira frowned slightly. She wasn’t fooled in the slightest, and had a look in her eyes that made it clear she thought Makoto had never gone, and was lying to make herself look like a model citizen. Akira didn’t say anything, but it was that same damn look Sae and Akechi and Ann and everyone seemed to be giving her all the time lately. Akira thought she was better than her. Just another person that saw her as nothing more than a reputation-obsessed pushover.

“Whatever.” Akira looked away, and both were silent for the rest of the train ride.

They arrived in Shibuya, and met the rest of the Thieves at the accessway. Makoto presented her evidence and issued her ultimatum, and they conceded and agreed, and her plan was a success. It took enduring some more ruthless berating from Ann and some downright venomous looks from the rest, but wasn’t that everything in her life, at this point. The important thing was, on paper, everything was going well. Even if she couldn’t find it in herself to feel happy about it anymore.

* * *

6/19

The third Sunday in June. Father’s Day.

There was no getting around it anymore, Makoto was outright colluding with the Phantom Thieves to see her own mission through to stop the mob. 

She didn’t know if she trusted that light at the end of the tunnel, anymore. The Thieves seemed unsure of themselves every step of the way, and progress was slow. And while that light flickered, the walls of the tunnel kept closing in from every direction, threatening to crush her. The letter of recommendation she so desperately needed to prove her worth to Sae was being dangled in front of her like a carrot on a stick by Kobayakawa, and he was constantly threatening to pull it out of her reach for good.

If there wasn’t hope to be found in the Thieves, then she couldn’t secure her future, she couldn’t save the students, and everything would collapse.

If the Thieves did pull through for her, then…

What would that make her? An accomplice? A criminal? Guilty of the brainwashing of Junya Kaneshiro for her own purposes?

They were her only hope, sure, but was it even worth putting her faith in them? She kept asking herself if it went against something she stood for, but she didn’t have an answer anymore.

Today especially, she wished she could talk to her father just one more time. He would know if she was on the right path.

She couldn’t tell how much of this stress was just her thirst. The thirst that her father’s killer had cursed her with. Despite Tae’s best efforts, the sisters were out of stock again, and the ache and the urge was back. Makoto was sitting on a couch in the living room, since there wasn’t much to be in the kitchen for. There wouldn’t be dinner tonight.

Sae was… Mostly calm when she arrived at home. She knew there wasn’t anything to look forward to, so she hadn’t gotten her hopes up. She looked normal, and her eyes were their usual dull maroon. Still, she checked the fridge a single time before she sat down, just to verify it was, in fact, empty.

Makoto hung her head a bit. They’d had their last drink together, so Makoto knew Sae was feeling the exact same ache she was feeling. It made it easy to empathize with the tired disappointment written all over Sae’s face as she slammed the fridge door shut.

The evening passed by normally, for a while. The two made small talk about their days, but it was a bit stiff. It wasn’t just that Makoto had secrets to keep, now, either; She felt afraid to mention anything that had been stressing her out, big or small, mundane or thirst-related. She had it so much easier than Sae, anyway, it wasn’t really fair for her to complain.

The conversation trailed off, and Makoto was left to her uneasy thoughts from before.

She looked over at Sae for a moment. Just by the nature of her being the older sister, Sae had clearer memories of their dad, and got the chance to know him better than Makoto did.

She… Just really needed his support right now, somehow, in some small way, just to get her through the next few days. 

“I’ve been… Thinking lately…” Makoto started. She hesitated, but she tried to calm herself. She shouldn’t be this nervous talking to her sister. “About those Phantom Thieves, I mean. I… Wonder what Dad would’ve thought of people like that.”

“What a juvenile thing to ask.” Sae’s voice was sharp and cold. “Do you think I have the energy to ask myself things like that, about every criminal I have to deal with? 

She looked over at Makoto with a glare, icy at first, but quivering just slightly. “And frankly, I don’t value Dad’s opinions on matters of justice very  _ highly, _ considering it was  _ his _ self-righteousness that got him  _ killed _ and sentenced  _ us  _ to this neverending nightmare. But it's not so much of a nightmare for you, is it, the fridge just  _ stocks itself _ for you, so why would you care?”

Makoto was shrinking away a little more at every word. “H-hey, that's not - That's not fair, I-”

Sae ignored Makoto’s meek attempt to slow her down, and snapped. “Isn’t it time you grew up and acknowledged our situation!?” She shouted with a quivering anger she didn’t try to hold back. “Right now, you’re useless to me. It’s not enough that I have to constantly struggle to keep myself from being dragged into hell, no. I have to carry a dead-weight  _ leech _ with me the whole way, I have to let myself go hungry just to feed you, and what do you do to make up for it? What have you done to take  _ any _ of this burden off my back?”

Makoto gasped, and held her hand close to her chest, trying to hold back tears. She didn’t know if it was better or worse that she didn’t see any of the monster in Sae’s eyes right now. No red glow, no fangs, just… Her real sister, saying all this.

Sae finally seemed to notice how her sister was almost cowering in her seat, and she sighed, and put a hand on her own forehead, and her scowl turned inwards and she looked away. There was a faint quiver in her own voice as she quietly tried to take back the outburst. “I’m… Sorry. That was uncalled for, I’m… Really thirsty…”

Makoto didn’t feel reassured.

* * *

It was a stupid, impulsive decision.

Makoto usually took pride in the fact that she was never,  _ ever _ impulsive. There were people that no doubt owed their lives to her never daring to give in to her impulses.

But all the expectations and doubts and insults and  _ everything _ just kept piling on her and piling on her and she just wanted to do  _ something _ to scream to the world that she wasn’t useless, and she could make a difference here, and she could do  _ something _ to actually solve this problem and catch this gangster.

But as soon as she’d been led in through that door, all pretense of her having any control over this situation vanished, and she was forced to confront just how much of an impulsive idiot she had been, to end up here.

The men escorting her suddenly grabbed her roughly, one of them taking her by both wrists and restraining her with cold steel handcuffs. She gasped, and shouted for her phone, which Akira was hopefully still listening to, “We’re in Eclipse Nightclub, on-!”

A rough hand was suddenly covering her mouth, and she completely froze.

“Are you wearing a fucking wire? The fuck kinda plan was this?” One of the thugs asked, and laughed as he started to frisk her pockets. He was being handsier than he needed to be.

That was the least of her problems. In fact, she hardly noticed it. There was a hand. A living, warm human hand. Right on her mouth, covering it and keeping her from making a sound. Pressing hard enough against her lips that she could feel his pulse. 

She was still as a statue, and didn’t even flinch at any of the invasive touches, because she didn’t trust herself to move a single part of her body. She didn’t breathe, she didn’t struggle. She hardly noticed as her phone was confiscated.

A thin, fragile layer of skin was the only thing separating her from a taste of fresh, warm blood. Thoughts of that decadent flavor filled her mind. Thoughts of painlessness. Thoughts of just how  _ much _ blood was in a muscular, full-grown man. Probably more than she’d ever drank in one week, before. What would… What would it feel like, to gorge herself on all that? To not have to stop at one glass?

She didn’t so much as twitch. She didn’t so much as move her eyes, or her eyelids. She knew if she moved, if she fought back in any way against this total fear that had her frozen in place, she’d extend her fangs. It didn’t matter where her head went, as long as she  _ didn’t move. _ The blood in that hand just kept pulsing, and pulsing, right against her lips, and she felt she could almost taste it, and she was salivating, and she didn’t let herself move even to swallow back the drool that was pooling in her mouth, because even that could be a step too far.

The other thug hung up her phone.

The hand was lifted from her face.

“You can go ahead and scream, now, girlie. Won’t do you no good anymore.” He laughed.

_ This guy deserves it. _ An intrusive thought struck Makoto like a slap in the face, and her conscious mind started scrambling to push it out, to get it away. She didn’t actually think that. She didn’t actually think that.

“...Jeez, get a load of this deer in headlights. You ever seen a girl act like this?”

With the hand off her mouth, she finally let herself take a sharp breath, blink, swallow, and weakly test her handcuffs.

“Alright, that’s enough of that. You’re the one who wanted to see the boss so bad. Get your ass in gear, let’s go.”

There was a firm hand on her shoulder, pushing her forward. 

As she walked, her head finally, mercifully started to clear, and she tried to take stock of her situation as rationally as she could.

She’d gotten scared. It was easy to get scared, in the flurry of handcuffs and rough treatment, and she hated to think of herself as a monster so much that she sometimes completely forgot her own latent strength. 

There was still a reason she was here. She came to get information. The handcuffs were weak - A part of her was scared to admit it to herself, but she could break them. And since she wasn’t really restrained in a way that mattered, she could still get everything she wanted and go. As long as she kept herself under control.

She reminded herself that there was no real danger to her here. As long as she kept herself under control, there was nothing truly bad that could happen.

In the next room, the first thing Makoto noticed was a heavy scent of alcohol and smoke in the air, along with… Something else she couldn’t quite place. A quick glance at the tables at the center of the room told her it was probably the smell of a hard drug she’d never been around before.

There was one man sitting on one of the couches around the tables, a drink in one hand, and his other arm around a half-dressed woman. He was a chubby man, with slicked-back hair full of gel and a fancy purple suit jacket left hanging open. Judging by his arrogant smirk as he looked Makoto over, this was the man of the hour, Junya Kaneshiro.

He set down his drink, and pulled out his phone, gesturing to one of the couches. “Let the fine young lady have a seat, will you?”

Before she understood what was happening, she was forced down onto the couch and she heard the digitized sound of a camera shutter.

“No need to be so tense,” Kaneshiro spoke with the fakest, most arrogant ‘suave’ voice Makoto had ever heard. “What brings you all the way out here to see me?”

Makoto put everything she had into mustering her most authoritative voice. “I’m Makoto Niijima, Student Council President at Shujin Academy. Your extortion ring is destroying the lives and futures of our students, and-”

There was a chorus of laughter from everyone in the room except her.

Kaneshiro turned the phone around. “Okay, miss Student Council President, let’s make sure we’re all on the same page here. Girl like you’s got a reputation to worry about, don’t you?”

Makoto’s eyes went wide, and her heart plummeted. She felt nauseous, just at the sight of the picture on the phone. Her, sitting on a couch in a seedy club with booze and drugs scattered across the table in front of her. She didn’t even look distressed in the shot, she’d been trying so hard to keep her cool.

“So, can I send this to your school?” Kaneshiro smirked.

“No-!” Makoto gasped, jumping up out of her seat. The goons were on her in a second, and they shoved her to the ground, forcing her facedown on the liquor-stained carpet.

“Dammit…!” Makoto shouted into the dirty carpet staining her cheek. She’d been arrogant. She’d been so arrogant, thinking she was invincible, and it had taken him all of two seconds to find a way to hurt her in a way that mattered. She was so stupid, she was  _ so _ stupid, and…!

What could… What could she even do here…?

Her brain scrambled to come up with something, to weigh her options. She could still escape, easily, but he’d send that picture out and she’d get expelled and Sae would kick her out and she’d  _ starve _ and - and - and who would she hurt, if it got that far? She could stay, and she could listen to his demands, but she’d heard the stories, she knew what happened to girls in debt to Kaneshiro, and the thought of being forced into that kind of work was - just - she couldn’t, she wouldn’t, it just wasn’t an option, she wanted to cry just thinking about it, and...

There was a horrifying, sinking feeling that she could feel in her core, and every time she ran the numbers it got stronger, and stronger. She tried to ignore it, she tried not to entertain the thought, but it just kept getting louder and louder the more she realized how hopeless everything else was.

It wasn’t that there was no way out.

There was exactly one way out, and that was the problem.

She had the power in her hands to kill Kaneshiro, right here, right now. 

The craving had been buzzing in the back of her mind ever since that goon’s damn  _ hand _ had been shoved on her mouth, and it had finally found purchase in her mind again. She was thinking about it. She was weighing it as an option. She couldn’t help it. Every other option saw her losing everything.

Drinking him might be the best chance she had. Drinking him might be the only chance she had. And it… It would be a feast, it’d be beyond her wildest dreams… How good would it feel, to be that full? She’d been so stressed for so long because of him, and the soothing bliss of being sated like she’d never been sated before was calling to her, offering to lift all that stress away…

She couldn’t get it out of her head. It was so tempting, and for the first time, it seemed to just make sense...

While she was lost in thought, Kaneshiro spoke up again. “Ahh, this is just precious.” He mocked, looking over at the prone and struggling Makoto with a lazy smile. The smile shifted into a devious smirk as he remarked, “I feed on dumbshits like you. Understand, Miss President? You run your mouth to the police, and I’ll break you, and your entire family.”

_ ‘I feed on dumbshits like you.’ _

That phrase burrowed into Makoto’s brain like a worm, and latched onto the rising bloodthirst and turned into a disgusted anger.

_ You’re more of a monster than I could ever be, _ Makoto thought.  _ Preying on futures, preying on lives, taking and taking and taking and taking when you already have more than you could ever need. _

Her fangs made their presence known in her mouth. Her eyes began to glow an ominous red. She felt strength coursing through her arms, ready to break free.

_ Who the hell would even miss you? Who the hell would even fault me for this? I’d be doing the world a favor, you bastard! I’ll show you who feeds on who, you insufferable freak, you’re  _ mine, _ you’re  _ all mine _ and- _

“Who the fuck are you!?” A thug slurred.

“Niijima-san!” That was Kitagawa-kun’s voice...

“What the hell did you do to her!?” Sakamoto shouted, and the sound startled her out of the haze she’d been falling into.

“You were followed, you dumbshits!” Kaneshiro barked.

The Phantom Thieves had… followed her all the way here?

She allowed herself a sigh of relief, and hid her face against the carpet.

She didn’t… She didn’t have to be drastic. Not today.

They were just in time.

* * *

She spent the rest of the negotiation laying there, listening to the sounds of the voices of the familiar students coming to her rescue. There was something about their voices that was grounding. They were like a normal part of her real life, coming to pull her back from this hellish place she’d fallen into. It was a bit easier to slip back into her normal way of thinking, with them here. A bit easier to feel like a person, like a fellow student, instead of a caged monster. A bit easier to stop thinking about killing.

She didn’t pay much attention to what happened for the rest of the standoff, she was still so far in her own head. But they got her out of that room alive, and with her perfect record intact.

She was still thirsty as hell, and the ache felt just that bit worse now that her hopes of relieving it had been dashed, but… Somehow, the thought of having anything to drink made her feel a bit queasy right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending was rushed but I really really just wanted to get this out, i've been trying to push myself to get it done all week and it's been difficult
> 
> I'm trying to only include scenes that I feel like change significantly with Makoto's new circumstances, i hope it still feels like it's paced okay
> 
> putting ethical vampires in difficult situations will never not be fun

**Author's Note:**

> vampires ain't dead it's 2020 and we living


End file.
